Dating, hating, and everything in between.

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From Fate to Fight

You should probably read Stares By The Stairsbefore reading this post, but if you haven’t, I’ll give you a brief synopsis. I ran into Cal the Cop randomly in a NYC train station shortly after discussing him over dinner. He offered me a ride, but I declined because I had a boyfriend.

A few days after the encounter, my boyfriend and I broke up (NOT BECAUSE OF THIS, but because he was a terrible boyfriend and did not live up to any of the promises he made me about becoming “official”).

Cal the Cop texted me a couple days later, asking how I was.

“Actually, I’m dead,” I replied.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Well, you never did text me to see if I was okay as you watched me drunkenly stumble down the train steps and take the train home at midnight all by my tiny self. So I ended up dying and you’re now speaking to me from the beyond.”

I stared at the phone for a solid minute. Did this kid honestly believe that he didn’t matter to me?

“Well, I guess I was just shocked that I ran into you amongst millions of people in a New York City train station. I believe in fate and, if that’s not it, I don’t know what is.”

“Well, everyone runs into me there,” he wrote back casually.

My jaw dropped in horror.

“I see. So I guess it wasn’t fate, after all. Thanks for clarifying.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” he wrote back, I assume in a failed attempt to be charming.

I was so disgusted with him at this point that I texted back, “I’m gonna go with ‘Not'” and didn’t bother with him again. Unnnntil I randomly ran into him in another state. But let’s not call it “fate.” Wouldn’t wanna NOT be an asshole.